


Mr. Tan and Muscular

by KostraKitty



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Blow Jobs, Bullied Stiles Stilinski, Bully Derek Hale, Captain Derek Hale, Eventual Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Hand Jobs, Lacrosse Player Derek, Lonely Stiles Stilinski, Love/Hate, M/M, Roommates, Spanking, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 19:58:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5177768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KostraKitty/pseuds/KostraKitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles' life had been a living hell since kindergarten where a certain Derek Hale tortured him on a daily basis throughout the years. Stiles is a completely lonely and slightly depressed teenager just trying to get through the days when the worst thing imaginable happened. Derek moved in. Turns out what Stiles thought would be hell, actually turned out to be exactly what he needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mr. Tan and Muscular

**Author's Note:**

> So, I haven't done any creative writing in years, let alone have i ever done any actual remote sex scenes so I really have no idea how this turned out. But, I decided to post it anyway. Hopefully none of you cringed while reading this. There is bullying, but nothing really physical actually goes down. So, if i am missing any things that should be tagged please let me know!  
> Thank you for reading, and i am truly sorry for any grammar mistakes I am very rusty.

“Stiles!” 

A book slamming down on Stiles desk snapped him out of his slumber. He opened his eyes only to be greeted by Mr. Harris. A seething Mr. Harris to be exact. 

“Nice of you to finally join us Stilinski,” Harris said smartly. Snickers could be heard from around the room. 

Stiles straightened up in his chair, hand coming up to wipe the drool away from his mouth. He made a disgusted face as he wiped it on his pants. 

“So, Stilinski. Do you plan on answering the question or am I wasting my time?” Harris still loomed above him, a cocky smile playing on his lips. Shrinking back in his chair, Stiles spanned the room. The faces of his fellow students for the most part were neutral, or more uncaring. Yet when his eyes drifted to Mr. Tan and muscular, it better known as Derek Hale, his face could not look smugger. Stiles turned his attention back to his teacher. 

“I seemed to have missed the question,” Stiles mumbled. “You could repeat the question?” Derek scoffed behind him. Stiles face went cold. 

Mr. Harris sighed and walked away from Stiles desk, only to grab a pink slip of his own. He wrote something down on it before walking back to Stiles to slap it down on his desk. Stiles cringed at the impact. 

“Maybe you can write me an essay in detention after class today then,” Harris said as he walked back to the front of the room to continue teaching. 

Stiles shrank back in his seat, even more if possible, before the back of his head began to get pelted with bits of erasers. Fantastic. 

Stiles didn't even have to look back to know it was Derek. It was almost always Derek. Some of the lacrosse team even made a cameo in the “Torture Stiles” film. Either way, Derek was team captain. So he obviously was the one in charge anyway. 

Stiles knew Derek since they were both in kindergarten, where they were is Ms. Roons class. They both had a crush on Anna, a blonde little girl with pig tails and bright blue eyes. Other than having a crush on the same girl, Stiles didn't know much of Derek. Sometimes they would share animal crackers or Derek would give Stiles his orange juice. (Mostly because Derek despised orange juice). And they would sometimes play the good old “the floor is lava game”. 

All of that changed on one faithful day when Anna was swinging on a swing and fell off, getting a wood chip stuck in her palm. Stiles walked over to her, being the polite boy his mother raised him to be, and helped her up. He helped get the splinter out the best he could, (which was surprisingly easy, the splinter wasn't in far whatsoever) and he walked her over to a teacher. She granted him with a parting kiss to the cheek as a thank you, and Derek granted him with a mud ball to the back of the head as a screw you. 

That was the start of it all.

It just so happened to get progressively worse from there. Derek would chase Stiles around the playground only to push him down when he finally reached him, or would throw pieces of mulch at him. He would even go to the extent of picking up Stiles’ orange juice at snack time and drink it right in front of him, holding eye contact the entirety of the time. Stiles found the act utterly terrifying as a young kid. Even though Derek would make the most twisted up face when he drank the juice, he would do it. Only because he knew it would make Stiles cry. And when Stiles cried, Derek would laugh. 

When they got to middle school, Derek went out for lacrosse and Stiles stayed home to play video games. 

By himself. 

If Stiles was being honest, it was because he had no friends. He could blame it on Derek, because whenever he started to make friends, Derek would threaten them as well. And being Stiles friend is not worth being terrorized by the lacrosse team. 

Derek on the other hand was Mr. Popular and Tan, mostly because puberty hadn't hit yet and neither had his god like muscles. But even still, if you asked who was the most attractive in seventh grade all the girls would squeal about Derek Hale. The most dorky and unattractive? Well that went to Stiles Stilinski. 

Why people even found Derek so intriguing was beyond him. He was rude. Extremely rude. His face almost always looked like he was smelling something bad, he looked like he was annoyed 24/7. Don't even get Stiles started on the guy’s eyebrows. Stiles swore they were Derek's main way of communicating. He probably had full conversations with people just by grunting and moving his eyebrows. This guy had some problems. But then again, he was mostly only a jerk to Stiles. 

Okay, he was really only a jerk to Stiles. 

Derek's complete and utter jerkiness (and that's putting it very lightly), definitely shone through during their eighth grade year, when a certain “someone” had egged Stiles house. And that “someone” just so happened to be Derek Hale.

Go figure. 

When Stiles woke up that Saturday morning, a spring in his step as he walked out of the house to go and get the mail, he stepped on them. The eggshells, of course. That's when Stiles turned around the look at the door, which was now the home of three broken eggs. His heart dropped out of his chest. 

When he looked over at the side of his house the eggs were there too. A roll of toilet paper was even thrown hazardously over his garage. The mess shouldn’t have surprised Stiles, it really shouldn't have. But alas, it did just that. After a few minutes of just standing there looking dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open, he gave up on the mail and walked straight back to his room, threw himself on his bed, and cried. 

When Stiles dad, or better known around town as the sheriff, came home that afternoon after a long shift at the station, found Stiles lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. His dad questioned him about the house, what happened, what he thought happened or if he knew who did it, and Stiles just shrugged his shoulders in a response. 

Stiles knew it was Derek. Stiles also knew what his dad would do to Derek if he found out it was him. Stiles, even though Derek had tortured him for years, was not going to ruin his life like that. So in the end, he kept his mouth shut, and just spent the next two weeks fully cleaning up the mess. 

Stiles half expected things to calm down after that. For some odd reason, he believed Derek would ease up after the egging incident that Stiles obviously didn't turn him in for doing, but he was utterly wrong. 

It was only two months after the egging incident when Stiles began getting phone calls. Phone calls at four in the morning. At first the caller was unknown, or believed to be a telemarketer, but it turned out to be Derek.

Obviously it would turn out to be Derek. 

After about a week of the early morning phone calls, Stiles answered. He was almost fuming by the time he finished yelling out a spiel of cuss words and threats, before he got a short bark of a laugh and the dial tone. A Derek sounding laugh. A laugh he usually uses when he tortures Stiles because it is obviously the funniest thing Derek can do with his life. Either way, he could practically see Derek's eyebrows moving through the phone. 

The rest of his middle school years were almost completely quiet, aside from the snide remarks and the various of things being thrown at him, including a piece of chewed up bubble gum that caused Stiles to need a buzz cut right before school pictures. (Which he would not do again, thank you). But it wasn't till junior year of high school that the next big thing happened. 

Lydia Martin asked him to prom. 

Strawberry blonde bombshell Martin. Most people referred to her as Lydia for short. Stiles couldn't help but fumble with his words as they stood by his locker, Lydia twirling a long piece of hair with her finger. A soft smirk played on her lips as soon as Stiles finally croaked out a soft “yeah.” 

“I'll be at your place by 7:30. Make sure you're ready, I will not be late to prom.” She began to walk away, before turning quickly around on her heel. “Oh, and be sure to be in a nice tux. My dress is pink.” Lydia disappeared down the hallway, leaving Stiles to dumbly nod after her. 

Stiles ended up renting a tux. Only after a good ten minutes of arguing with his dad whether or not Stiles should wear his father’s tux because he wore it to his prom and Stiles mother was his date and it would be good luck. But Stiles knew better than that. Even though he was going to prom with Strawberry blonde bombshell Martin, he just knew it wasn't going to be “mom tux” worthy. 

Stiles was more than right when 8 o'clock rolled around and there was still no sign of Lydia. His dad was at the station, so that definitely spared Stiles just a tad bit of shared embarrassment and humility. After standing by his door for another thirty minutes, hair actually tamed for once and tux on with a pink tie, a corsage in hand, he realized she was definitely not coming. 

Instead of walking back upstairs and throwing himself into a night full of video games and tears, he walked out the door. His dad was coming home in less than an hour, and if Stiles was still in the house Lydia less and crying like the world was ending, he would begin worrying. Again. 

His dad worried a lot about him. A lot more than necessary, Stiles would say. 

“It just isn't normal for a teenager to have no friends,” his dad would say to him over and over again. “It isn't normal for a kid your age to be this depressed.” But Stiles already knew that. 

Soon enough, he found himself walking to the high school. Why he even walked there in the first place was unknown. But it was just in time to see Derek. But not just regular, scolding Derek. But an actual smiling Derek. But not just a smiling Derek, but a Derek smiling at him. He walked out of the schools double doors like he was actually happy to see Stiles there. 

Stiles knew that was definitely true when Lydia walked out right after him. Stiles suddenly felt like he was going to vomit. When Derek reached over to place a hand on Lydia's waist only to pull her in to plant a chaste kiss to her cheek, Stiles vomited all over the asphalt. 

Stiles was knocked out of his thoughts as the bell began to ring, signaling that Mr. Harris’s class was over. Stiles slowly reached a hand back in an attempt to pull any other eraser bits out of his hair, thank you to Derek's eraser attack, and slumped back in his seat as everyone exited the classroom.

…

When Stiles got home, his dad was already gone. All that Stiles could find was a short note written in small, fast hand writing. 

Went out with a friend. There is money for pizza on the counter. Be back soon.

Stiles sighed and grabbed the note off of the table before crumbling it up and putting it in the garbage can on his way up the stairs. Stiles, for a lack of better words, was remotely upset. Okay, Stiles was very upset. He had lost count of how many days he had come home to a note like that, his dad claiming he was out with a “friend”. Stiles was not an idiot. He knew something was going on. Something that his dad obviously wanted to leave him in the dark about. 

Stiles figured that his dad was currently in a relationship. Or possibly taking part in a budding romance, but either way he was not telling Stiles about any of it. When he did bring it up to his dad he just shrugged it off, saying that it was a friend associated with work. Which was definitely untrue because almost every single person his dad worked with was over fifty years old and male. 

So ultimately, Stiles was 100% sure his dad had a secret girlfriend. 

He understood why his dad would be keeping it a secret as well. Stiles mother died when he was younger, they lost her to cancer. His parents met in high school, dated throughout, got pregnant with Stiles, and here they were now. His dad hadn’t dated since. The past ten years his dad completely isolated himself from the dating world. Well until now, Stiles supposed. He knew his dad was keeping it a secret from him because he thought he would be upset or that he wouldn’t be able to handle it. 

Stiles was happy for his dad. Truly, he was. He just didn’t like the fact that he was being taken away from him on an almost daily basis now. 

Stiles walked into his room and threw himself down on the bed. His head was pounding, even to the point that he knew he would not be playing video games that night. Usually, Stiles didn’t really care about the having no friends thing. He was used to it if he was honest. But then it came to days like these, where his day turns out to be utter crap and his dad isn’t there to vent to. He needed a friend. Life would be so much easier to deal with if he had someone to share it with other than his own dad. Someone to play video games with. Someone to cure his crippling loneliness. 

Stiles slowly drifted off into yet another peace less and unsatisfying sleep. 

…  
When Stiles woke up it was four o'clock in the morning. He groaned and sat up in bed, half expecting there to be an unknown number calling him like there used to be in middle school. Not this time though, for it was just his father’s strangled voice yelling at him from the bottom of the stairs.

The sound of his dad's voice woke him up faster than anything had in a very long time. He bounded up and out of his bed, not even caring that he was just in his boxers, (he must have taken off his clothes in the middle of the night). He made his way down the stairs two at a time, before he found his dad in the kitchen. Panicking.

“Dad?” Stiles questioned, running up to him. The panic in his voice was screaming. “Dad what's going on?”

John shuffled through a kitchen drawer, throwing the contents around like they were nothing. When Stiles looked around the room, he realized every drawer was like that. The whole kitchen was turned upside down practically. Stiles began to panic even more.

“What are you looking for? What's going on?” John ignored him, moving on to the next drawer. “Dad, Talk to me!” Stiles practically yelled, snapping his dad out of his trance. He looked at Stiles, his eyes wild and puffy.

“I have to go. There's been a call. I can't find my keys anywhere.” He shut his mouth again and turned his attention to the drawer again. “I need to go. Now.”

Stiles hadn't seen his dad like this since… Since the day his mother passed away. The day was shoved back into his mind and Stiles started to go into a frenzy. He couldn't think of what would make his dad act so crazy. Something had to have been pretty important for him to act like that. He never acted so crazed on any other call.

“Did you check in the cruiser?” Stiles barely got a word out before his dad was running out the door.

Stiles got the reply of the cruiser starting and tires peeling out of the driveway. He heard the sirens start as he drove down the street.

Stiles stood, frozen to the spot. His mind was extremely foggy. He was half tempted to call his dad, see what was actually going on. Was his grandma okay? Did someone die? The scenarios ran around in his head, and before he began to let it get to him, he started to clean up the kitchen.

It kept him busy for a good hour, up until the clock said it was half past five. Stiles needed to get ready for school at that point, and without hearing anything from his father yet, he went upstairs to shower.  
He took his time in the shower, just letting the warm water run down his aching back. Stiles always took long showers. It was the most relaxed he would be the entire day. Even sleeping wasn't as peaceful. Stiles had trouble sleeping the entirety of the night. Mostly because he woke up every other hour from a night mare, or he just woke up every other hour. There really was no telling why sometimes.

Stiles shut the water off after about a half an hour, quickly drying off his body and wrapping a towel around his waist.

Getting ready for school took Stiles a lot longer than usual. He took his time picking out his best flannel shirt and jeans. His mind was all in a hazy fog as he poured himself a bowl of cereal. When it was almost seven, he pulled on his shoes and walked out the door.

Stiles jumped in his jeep and made his way to the school. It only took about five minutes to get there. Parking his jeep in the usual spot, he shut it off and sat there with his thoughts. He didn't want to walk into that building. Not at all. His morning was already the worst he had in a long time. The sting of panic still feeling fresh. He should have stayed home. Should have just waited for his dad to get home, ask him what happened, and then go to the diner or watch a game on TV. But no, Stiles chose to go to school to be tortured by the cave man Derek Hale himself.

Except when Stiles got to his last period of the day Derek wasn't there. He found that out when he got a question wrong in Harris’s class and there was no smart remark in reply. There were no pieces of paper or eraser bits in his hair, (Derek must have spent a crap ton on erasers every week by the way), and there were no grunts of disapproval. There was… Peace. Then that peace turned sour when he realized something. Derek never missed a day at school.  
Never.

In all of the years Stiles knew him, Derek never missed a day. He had perfect attendance all the way up to this point. There was that time when Derek broke his clavicle during a lacrosse game yet there he was the next day, hopped up on Percocet and sitting across the lunch room from Stiles. When Derek got his tonsils removed he was throwing Stiles’ book bag in a mud puddle the day after.

Stiles got a sick feeling in his stomach.

What if that was the call his dad got this morning? What if Derek got into some kind of accident? What if Derek was off somewhere dying right now? Stiles chest felt tight. The wind was knocked out of him.

Holy crap. Derek.

Stiles couldn't help it when he began to shake. His vision went next, starting to blur at the edges. He started to hyperventilate. He couldn't catch his breath. He was starting to get weird looks from around the room.

Stiles stood up from his seat, almost knocking the chair over in his haste. He made his way to the door as fast as he could, something that felt like adrenaline pushing him to walk.

As soon as he made it to the bathroom, he fell against the door. The room was empty. His breathing just got worse from there. He clutched at his shirt, the feeling of complete and utter panic shooting through his very core. His insides felt like they were beginning to go numb. He was having a panic attack. A panic attack over none other than Derek Hale. Not even a panic attack over what he did to Stiles himself, but a panic attack over his actual safety. 

Stiles just then realized how- he dare say it- important Derek actually was to him. I mean sure he hated the guy more than he hated anyone in his life and he was pretty sure that Derek felt the same.

Then why was he going into such a panic at the thought of something happening to Derek?

That was because Derek was the closest thing Stiles had to a friend. Ever. The thought made him queasy. Every time Stiles thought about something happening to Derek he honestly felt… Almost relieved. If Derek ever moved away it would be the happiest day of his life. Or so he thought.

No one would pay any kind of attention to him if Derek was gone. He would fade into black like he was nothing. Like he wasn't even there. Stiles would rather have negative attention versus no attention at all. It made him realize if something happened to him, at least someone would notice.

Stiles calmed down considerably. He was still shaking a little bit, the adrenaline from the panic attack making its way out of his system. Stiles wiped his face on his sleeve. That's when he realized that he was crying.

A push on the door sent him flying down onto the floor. When Stiles looked up he saw Scott, a guy from Harris’s class. He was on the lacrosse Team as well, but not one of the assholes that did the various of mean things to him. He mostly just sat back and watched.

“Harris told me to come check up on you.” Scott's eyes flicked around the bathroom awkwardly before looking at Stiles completely. He must have looked like a mess. He sure felt like one.

“He wanted me to tell you to go to the nurse.” Scott dug around in his pocket to pull out a yellow sticky note. “He wrote you a pass. Your things are outside the door.”  
Stiles nodded at Scott, taking his time to slowly stand up from his place on the ground. When he looked up again, Scott was already out of the room. After a quick splash of water to his face and a small pep talk to just calm the heck down, Stiles walked to the nurse’s office.

…

When Stiles jeep pulled up in the drive way the cruiser was already there. A pang of worry hit Stiles as he made his way up to the house. He was scared at what he was going to find when he opened the door. Utterly terrified. So terrified in fact he was half tempted to just get back in the jeep and take off to the nearest GameStop. He was almost off the porch when the door opened.

There was Stiles dad, standing in the door frame. He looked like he aged ten years since he saw him last, but nevertheless, he was smiling. Tiredly smiling, Stiles supposed but still smiling. He stepped aside to let Stiles in the door, ruffling his son’s hair as he walked by.

Stiles walked right over to the kitchen and took a seat at the table. His dad followed suit, pulling a chair out to sit across from his son. The room went completely quiet. Stiles looked down at the table, shuffling his feet across the tile floor as the room fell into a deep and awkward silence. It was Stiles’ dad who spoke up first. 

“Her name is Talia.” Stiles glanced up at that, giving his dad a strange look complete with a cocked up eyebrow. John sighed and sat up straighter in his chair. 

“Talia. She is the woman I have been seeing for the past four months.” 

That hit Stiles like a ton of bricks. That was definitely not what he was expecting to come out of his father’s mouth at that point in time. He wasn't expecting that at all. 

“So…” Stiles drawled. His eyes flicked over to the door. Really looking anywhere but at his father. “Nan isn’t dead?”

He looked at Stiles blankly for a moment. Then realization hit him. John smiled a small smile as he shook his head.

“No, Nan isn’t dead. I got a call at about three thirty this morning that Talia’s house caught fire, that she was still inside.” John shifted uncomfortably in the seat.

“By the time I got there, they were out of the house. Her son as well. It is only the two of them there, but there house was still up in flames. By the time the fire went out there was nothing left of the house but a broken down wall and a pile of rubble.” Stiles nodded along to the story as his father told it, a crease forming over his forehead.

“This is where we come in,” John said, looking up to hold eye contact with his son. Stiles couldn’t be more confused at that line.

“What do you mean?” Stiles said cautiously after a moment of silent came between the two. John cleared his throat.

“Well, they’re staying at a hotel right now. Which would be fine and all, but they need to be around people that care right now. All of her family lives back in Minnesota, so she doesn’t really have anyone like that around here. They lost everything Stiles, and I just don’t feel comfortable with them not having an actual home to live in.” John paused long enough to see realization filter across Stiles face.

“I want them to move in with us.”

…

Stiles didn’t know it at the time, but the next few months were going to be torturous. And what would be even more surprising to him was exactly what was going to make his life a living hell.

After sitting down and talking to his dad for a good hour about the living arrangements, it was settled.

Talia and her son were going to be moving in. Tomorrow afternoon, to be exact.

He just couldn’t say no to his dad with the way he was talking about her. He told Stiles all about her, how she worked at the Diner he used to go to on break. He asked her out on a date after about a week of pinning, (yes, he did say pinning) and they just hit it off from there.

Stiles hasn’t seen a light like that in his father’s eyes for a long time. It made Stiles smile, and agree to them moving in with them. The only bad thing was that her currently unnamed son was going to be sharing a room with him. Now that, Stiles was not excited about.

They would bring the air mattresses down from the attic and lay it down in Stiles room in a corner or something like that for this guy to sleep on.

Stiles didn’t even know if he was actually a guy is the thing. Talia’s son could be like five years old or something weird like that. Or he could be like thirty years old. Either way, Stiles was now worrying about it. Just a tad bit. He was going to be sharing a bedroom with a dude he didn’t even know for God knows how long.

Stiles was in his bedroom, playing tomb raider at three o clock in the morning. It was very sad to think this would be the last time Stiles was able to stay up as late as he wished playing video games. Hell he wasn’t even sure if this kid liked video games. He sure hope he did. If Stiles had to share a room with someone for a long period of time he better like video games. He better not be a complete asshole either, Stiles decided. Not an asshole and into Laura Croft.

Maybe this person could even be Stiles friend. That would be amazing.

Stiles went to bed that night only slightly excited. Very slightly.

…

When a familiar looking car pulled up in the driveway the next afternoon, Stiles almost cried. He would’ve cried anyway if he wasn’t too busy slamming his head on the wall.

Derek Hale slowly made his way out of the Camaro. Everything went into slow motion after that. Derek getting out of the car. Derek obviously already knowing whose house he was at. Derek looking up to see Stiles through the living room window mid head bang. Them making eye contact. Derek practically sneering at him, and Stiles almost pissing his pants.

Who could only be Talia climbed out of the passenger side door. She looked friendly, walking out with a smile as she walked half way to meet Stiles’ dad in the drive way. They embraced for just a second before John pulled away to place a chaste kiss to her cheek. She had a soft smile playing on her lips as she pushed her long brown hair off of her shoulder. She walked over to Stiles.

“Hello, Stiles,” Talia smiled, holding out her hand for Stiles to take. He shook her hand as delicately as he could manage.

“My name is Talia. And this over here,” she said waving her hand in a gesture towards Derek. “Is my son Derek. I’m sure you may know him from school. He is in your grade.” Stiles nodded his head sheepishly, attempting to not look over at Derek as he stood just behind his mother now.

They had the same green eyes, Stiles noticed.

“Do you need help carrying anything in?” Stiles found himself asking, eyes casted down to the floor. His dad spoke up before anyone else could.

“Why don’t you just go show Derek your room?” He said with a smile. “Make sure he get situated, get to know each other a little bit.” Talia nodded her head at that enthusiastically.

“I agree boys! We can handle everything out here.”

Stiles took a chance to look up at Derek, who was standing there obviously extremely irritated and upset, before nodding solemnly at his father.

“Oh, yeah sure.” Stiles croaked out, eyes not leaving Derek’s menacing glare. “Right this way,” he mumbled before turning on his heel and into the house.

…

Stiles must have done something in a past life. Something completely and utterly horrendous. There was no other explanation to why his life was sucking so badly right now. Derek Hale was in his room. Mr. Tan and muscular himself, in the flesh.

Derek looked around Stiles’ room, a slight grimace on his face. The room smelled. The smell wasn’t horribly disgusting, it could be a lot worse. But all Derek could smell was dirty laundry and maybe – was that pizza? Stiles had obviously become nose blind.

They sat in silence for a few awkward minutes. Derek realized Stiles was soon beginning to look like he was hyperventilating. Or more so, that he was going to fall through the floor. His eyes were watering as well, just a tad, around his ember irises. His face began to go pale and clammy, Derek could see it from where he was sitting across the room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Derek tried not to sound like he was seething. But he totally was. The sudden break in silence made Stiles jump, almost causing him to begin to cry. Fantastic. He was going to be sharing a house with this weirdo for how long? Not that he didn’t already know Stiles was the most annoying and weird thing on the planet. Derek tried to shrug it off when Stiles wet eyes met his, the younger man’s eyes filled with hurt.

If you asked Derek why he was such a well, asshole, to Stiles he couldn’t really tell you anymore. He may have been the most obnoxious person he ever met like really, the guy never talks to anyone and it’s the most annoying thing Derek has seen in practically his entire existence. The guy just kind of sits there, and whenever Derek attempts to do anything to provoke him he just takes it. Which then causes Derek to want to do it even more, and well it doesn’t work. Ever. It was an endless cycle. He just wants Stiles to retaliate for once. Make Derek feel like he made Stiles feel for years. 

Derek should probably feel bad at this point. Stiles sat across the room at his desk chair almost looking like the world was falling apart around him and here Derek was, being the biggest asshole that he could manage. The sad thing was, Stiles didn’t expect anything different.

…

John walked into Stiles room only about ten minutes later, Talia trailing close behind. Stiles was just coming down from his almost panic attack, looking slightly back to normal when his father turned to face him.

“Why don’t you and Derek go pick up some pizza? We almost got everything situated. We can play a game of Charades when you get back, settle down for the night, get to know each other,” John said almost enthusiastically. Weirdly enthusiastically if you asked Stiles. The Stilinski’s weren’t exactly what you would call… Enthusiasts.

Stiles almost jumped at the chance to get out of that room, but then realized what his father actually said. You and Derek. Meaning Stiles and Derek. Meaning they had to go together.

Stiles almost pissed himself (yet again), when Derek stood up from the bed and actually smiled. Stiles almost had to take a second look at the guy standing in front of him. Derek looked so foreign with a smile on his face.

“Sure thing, Mr. Stilinski,” Derek walked to the other side of the bed where he picked up his leather jacket, (leather because he obviously was a hard ass), and looked over at Stiles expectantly. Stiles got the clue, and slowly stood up from his spot at the computer.

“Call me John,” Stiles dad smiled before placing a twenty in the waiting hand of Derek. Derek nodded politely as he placed the money in his pocket.

When John closed the door Stiles could just hear his father, praising Talia for raising a boy that had such good manners. Stiles almost scoffed at that. But scoffing was Derek’s thing.

When Stiles turned back to Derek, the smile was now replaced with a stone face. Now that, that was the Derek Stiles knew.

“We’re going to get this over with.” Derek said, side stepping Stiles as he walked out of the room, only just slightly knocking Stiles into the door frame. Only slightly.

Stiles tried to act calm in the car ride there. He really did. He gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. He wasn’t used to being near Derek so long, and just being in the close proximity of him was making Stiles squirm. And not in an entirely good way. Derek was just giving off a completely negative aura, and it was rubbing off on Stiles.

“What are you doing?” Derek grumbled in the seat next to him. Stiles glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes, confused.

“Driving?” Stiles said it like it was a question. Derek looked at him like he was an idiot.

“You were supposed to turn right back there,” Derek waved behind them. Stiles turned his head back.

“No, we’re going to Caesars. Caesars is this way.” Stiles made a left turn. Derek grumbled something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Your dad ordered it from Dominos. He told me that right before we left,” Derek said, annoyance obvious in his tone.

“Oh,” Stiles said slowly, hands gripping the wheel tighter, if even possible. “I didn’t know that.” He felt Derek watching him as he drove.

“Meaning Dominos is that way,” Stiles watched him blankly. Derek huffed out a sigh of annoyance. “Meaning you need to turn around.” 

Derek watched him expectantly, waiting for him to turn into the nearest driveway. His eyebrows spiked up in annoyance. Stiles could feel his blood pressure spike up at that. He turned around in the nearest parking lot which just so happened to be an adult sex shop. The look Derek gave him at that was indescribable. 

“Watch out, one of these days your eyebrows might fly off your forehead.” Stiles mumbled, turning back onto the highway. Stiles glanced a look over at Derek who was looking 100 percent amused. 

“What’s up with you, Stilinski?’ Derek moved around in his seat so he was fully facing Stiles, A light smirk playing on his lips. 

“You hardly even say one word to me at school, even when I’m throwing gum in your hair or kicking your seat out from under you, you sit there like a plank.” Stiles kept his eyes on the road.

“So what is it, Stiles?” it felt like Derek was right next to him, talking in his ear. Stiles turned his head just slightly to see that Derek was in fact leaning over the console, just inches away from his face. He was breathing almost menacingly in his hair. Stiles turned his attention back to the road.

“Why are you acting like such a hard ass now?” Stiles could feel his heart rate quicken.

If he was being honest, Stiles had no idea what he was doing. This was not Stiles. This was not Stiles one bit. Here he was practically challenging Derek, challenging the guy that made Stiles’ life a living hell. Made Stiles go into some form of panic attack almost daily now. 

Damn, Stiles was screwed. 

Even so, it doesn’t make any sense as to why Stiles was even talking to the guy, since he more than likely did not have any two sided verbal communications with him since they were both probably five. Those were the good old days, sharing animal crackers and being well… friends. Derek was the closest thing Stiles ever had to a friend. 

Deep down, way, way deep down, Stiles still saw Derek as well, something that was not entirely a walking, breathing succubus. Derek Hale, Mr. Tan and Muscular was still a person. It only took Stiles an awkward car ride and two almost panic attacks in the span of an hour to figure that out. 

Stiles, at this point coming to a realization at how big of a pansy he had been most of his life, made a decision. He was not going to let Derek walk all over him anymore. If he had to live with this guy for who knows how long at this point, he was going to make it worthwhile, make it teach him a lesson. 

This was Stiles’ house, Not Derek’s. Derek, for once, was in Stiles’ domain, and God knows Stiles is going to take advantage of it. 

Stiles mentally gave himself a pat on the back for that inspirational speech, which was phenomenal, might he add, before he grinned a grinned he never knew he was capable of. As he pulled up to the parking lot, he looked over at Derek with the slyest smirk he could manage. It obviously caught Derek off guard as his eyebrows actually lowered for once and he settled back down in his seat, a confused look on his face. Stiles took the chance, and all of the courage he could fathom, before he took his turn and leaned over the console to look Derek right in the eyes as he spoke.

“Well Hale, things just might be beginning to change.”

…

The ride back to the house was extremely uneventful compared to the way there. Stiles is almost a hundred percent positive that he scared the living crap out of Derek, (Though he knows that’s shooting very high), and he is very proud of it. Derek doesn’t even look like he is entirely constipated anymore, which is a shock to Stiles because when doesn’t the guy look like he is in physical pain. He just looks, well in Stiles words, surprised. He probably thought that Stiles was almost a mute all of this time.

Derek didn’t think that Stiles was a mute. Derek just thought that Stiles was a complete idiot as well as the biggest pansy that he knew. That was just Derek’s opinion though and it seemed as if everyone else didn’t have an opinion, because they didn’t. Nobody was obsessed with Stiles like Derek was. Okay, maybe not obsessed with him, more as obsessed in causing him pain. That’s all that Derek wanted to do, Cause Stiles as much pain as he possibly could. It’s not even that he hated Stiles, because as much as Derek wanted to say he did, he didn’t. 

Derek just hated himself. Stiles just so happened to make Derek hate himself more.

It seemed a lot longer of a time to get back home then it took to get there, and Stiles swears it’s because he actually scared Derek Hale for once. Deep down he has a brain, therefore Stiles knows that isn’t true. It’s most likely because the two didn’t talk on the way home whatsoever because there was a giant veil of awkward floating around them. Derek didn’t even get out of the car when they finally finished up their staring contest before they got the pizza. He just sat in the car and let Stiles wait inside for the pizzas to be done. Not that he was entirely complaining, he might say. 

When Stiles turned off his jeep he wasted no time in reaching for the pizzas and getting out of the car. Derek slowly followed behind him for once, looking neutral - or was that slightly amused? As they walked into the house. That's when they see John and Talia, cuddled up on the couch watching some old Si-fi movie. 

They jump apart when Derek slams the front door “accidentally”. He apologizes to Stiles dad and follows Stiles as he walks into the kitchen. Stiles placed the boxes down on the counter just in time before he is pushed up against the marble top. 

His eyes practically bulge out of his head as he looks at Derek. His face only a few measly inches away from his own. Stiles is shocked, just a little. If he remembers correctly, this is the first time Derek had ever been physical with him. He wasn't even sure Derek actually touched him before, let alone this long. Almost the entirety of Derek's body pressed up against his own in a way that was just so intimidating. Stiles felt the room go hot for only a second before he snapped out of it. Derek was just testing him, he could tell by the smirk that was dancing on his lips. Derek's hands gripped at his shirt. He was only trying to push Stiles pass the edge. 

“Can I help you?” Stiles found himself saying. Derek looked like he was smacked in the face by an invisible hand. He recovered quickly enough, pushing Stiles back into the counter top, the edge poking into the small of his back. 

“Stop being such a little smart ass.” Derek grunted, fists burrowing harder into his shirt. Stiles ignored the squeezing in his chest. 

“I'll stop when you stop.” Stiles heart rate was fast, extremely fast. He wouldn't be surprised if Derek could feel it through his shirt. 

Derek leaned in closer to the point Stiles could feel his breath on his neck. Stiles felt a shiver race down his spine.

“Looks like that's going to be a while then.” 

At that, Derek pushed himself off of Stiles just as John walked into the kitchen. 

“Oh, hey boys,” John glanced between the two. He focused in on Stiles obviously red face. “Everything alright?” 

“Everything is fine dad,” Stiles cleared his throat. “I'm going out into the garage to grab a water.” Stiles walked out of the kitchen before his dad or Derek could reply. As he walked out in the garage, the cold air hit him just as his realization had. He was extremely frustrated, that was for sure, but as well as just slightly, and he means extremely slightly, turned on from that Derek encounter. 

Stiles also realized he was screwed. Again.

…

Stiles didn't know if it was what happened in the kitchen that had him looking at Derek like he was actually something he wanted to look at. He wasn't entirely sure why he was watching him now as he mimicked folding laundry in their game of charades. Stiles couldn't help but watch as his muscles seemed to ripple under his shirt, his arms contacting as he moved, the shirt tightening around his chest. 

Half of Stiles wanted this game to end, have Derek yell in his face for staring at him like he had been, wanted him to push him up the nearest wall and breath down his neck again, making him squirm, punishing him. 

The other half of Stiles, well that half knew way better than that. 

Stiles didn't realize he was already semi-hard in his pants until his dad called over to him, telling him that it was his turn to go up. The color must have drained from his face, for his dad looked at him quizzically. 

“I uh-,” Stiles stuttered as he spoke. “I’ll go after you go.” Stiles almost chocked on air when Derek rolled his sleeves up, revealing his tan and outstanding biceps. His dad looked at him like he grew a new head. 

“Everyone else already went Stiles, it's your turn.” Talia said sweetly. Stiles cursed under his breath. 

“Yeah, where have you been?” Derek chimed in, obviously not trying to sound menacing, the guy had a smile on his face as he said it. As soon as Talia looked the other way, back came the smirk. Stiles wanted to punch him. But since it was Stiles and he was still pretty much a pansy, he decided against it. That and Derek could probably beat him into the ground. Stiles didn’t want to think of that right now. 

“Just go up there, son.” John sighed. “No one is going to bite you.” 

Stiles didn’t look at Derek as he said that. He definitely did not. 

With all the eyes in the room on him, Stiles stood up and walked to the front of the living room. He prayed to the gods when he realized his semi was completely gone. 

 

…

It wasn’t until after ten o’clock when they got completely done with everything. They spent most of that time playing various games, moving on to a game of Life after the Charades, which went horrendous for Stiles, by the way. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Derek the entire time he was up there, pretending to be sky diving. The longer that he watched him, the less he saw Mr. Tan and Muscular and the more he saw a different Derek. A Derek that Stiles never really knew existed. Heck maybe the Derek he was seeing now, this slightly, very slightly, smiling Derek may not even be him at all. He could be holding up an act like he did with Stiles’ father earlier that day and Stiles wouldn’t even know.

When Stiles fell flat on his face as he “jumped out of the plane”, Derek only laughed a little bit. Maybe it was because Stiles’ dad and his mom were in the room so he was playing it off. Stiles thought against that when he looked Derek in his eyes and saw something completely different than he ever had. Stiles wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but it wasn’t completely negative. 

Oh, and Derek won that game of Life.

Now that they were all just sitting in the living room, chatting amongst themselves with the TV on quietly for some background noise, things started to feel a little, how would you put it… real?

 

It wasn't just hitting Stiles now that Derek was going to be living in his house, he was dreading it all day if he was honest. But the thing is, Stiles almost imagined Derek just jumping up and leaving at any point or he was half prepared to walk up into his bedroom and see something completely broken (which nothing actually was, Stiles checked multiple times). But he didn't leave. He wasn't being an asshole as normal Derek would be. Sure there was the secret death glares he would send him or the occasional eye roll and scoff at something Stiles would say, but altogether it was decent. Stiles was genuinely surprised. 

The surprise didn't last for long that was for sure. Once the night came to an end and John and Talia went off into their own room things got a little well, weird. 

Stiles was sitting on his bed, watching as the machine pumped up the air mattress when Derek walked back in the room, showered and well, shirtless. 

Stiles almost fell off the bed. 

Derek was insanely attractive. Stiles had no idea how he didn't notice it before. He was built, not insanely built but built to the point it was insanely attractive. He was all tall, tan and rippling muscles with green eyes and dark hair and it made Stiles just melt. It almost made Stiles want, too, but then the gorgeous thing in front of him opened its mouth. 

“So what's your problem?” Derek shifted his weight on to one leg and crossed his arms across his chest. Stiles stopped burning a hole through Derek's pectoral muscles long enough to give him a questioning look. 

“What do you mean?” Stiles was hardly finished talking before Derek rolled his eyes. 

“You wouldn't stop glaring at me all night,” Derek caught Stiles’ eyes. “It's like you don't want me to be here.” Derek was smirking his famous Derek smirk now, all thoughts of a possible nice side of Derek fade away. 

“Why would I want you here?” Stiles watched Derek quizzically. “You literally make me feel like utter shit every day at school. Why would I want that at home too?” That only made Derek smirk more. 

“Looks like I'm doing my job right then.” 

Stiles wanted to say something in retaliation. He really, really did. He wanted to ask Derek what he wondered for years. Why was he so mean to him? Why was he like this with Stiles and Stiles alone? Why did it seem like it was Derek's main goal in life to make Stiles hate himself? 

Stiles fell asleep that night, questions still burning in the back of his mind. No more words were spoken. Stiles just finished filling up the mattress with air before he laid down in his own bed, trying his hardest to let sleep take him. He still slept with one eye open though, that's for sure. 

…

Stiles woke up on the floor. Well, Stiles woke up by being pushed on to the floor to be exact. That wasn't even the worst part of it though. Oh no. The worst part was probably that it was 4 o'clock in the morning. And it was a Sunday. 

"What're you doing?” Stiles mumbled from his place on the floor. The room was dark, he couldn't see a thing. He didn't need to hear Derek's dark chuckle behind him. 

“I'm going for a run,” Derek explained simply. Stiles shut his eyes and groaned. 

“What you wake me up for then? I'm not going anywhere,” Stiles could hear his voice, very unattractive and groggily sounding from his interrupted sleep. Derek laughed at him like he was crazy. When he spoke next, Stiles swore he was right next to him.

“Never asked you to Stilinski,” Derek huffed. “Just wanted to make sure you were up,” Stiles could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke even in the darkness. Stiles wanted to punch him. 

“Wow, thanks Hale,” Stiles mumbled into the ground. “I always knew you had a heart.”

“Don't be such a little smart ass,” Derek seethed. Stiles grunted in response. 

“Come up with more come backs than just calling me a smart ass,” Stiles said, almost drifting back to sleep on the cold floor. “I already know how smart I am.” 

All Stiles heard in reply was the clicking of the door being shut as Derek left the room. 

…

Derek hadn't ran that fast in a long time. For years he had been doing this, getting up in the early mornings for a quick run to start his day. He usually didn't do it on the weekends, usually let himself sleep in as much as he wanted. This time it was different. Derek needed this, needed to feel the cold air hit his face, needed to feel the slight burn in his thigh muscles as he pushed himself to his limits. 

Derek needed to clear his mind. 

Thoughts of the house fire ran through his mind over and over again. Waking up to the smell of smoke and a blazing orange light. Him yelling for his mom to wake up, her not replying. Him running out of his room as fast as he could, almost running face first into a wall of thick, black smoke. Running down the hall and into his mother’s room where he found her sleeping soundly on her bed. The walls from the hallway falling in on itself. Them jumping out her window and into the firemen’s safety nets. His mother crying in the arms of a man he didn't even know. 

Then there was Stiles. 

Learning that he was going to be moving in with Stiles pansy ass Stilinski was just the icing on the cake. Not even 24 hours after the fire he learned his mother had been dating Stiles’ dad in secret for four months and they would be moving in with them for quite a while. Derek was definitely not impressed. 

What made matters worse was how different Stiles actually turned out to be. The guy had a mouth on him when he wanted to. When he wasn't absolutely fearing for his safety that is. Stiles actually talked back, actually took what Derek was giving him and actually started to throw it back in his face. Derek was shocked at the new found confidence in Stiles, but pleasantly so. 

Derek was so ready to get what he finally deserved. 

…

It had been about a week since the Hales had moved into the Stilinski house. Things were going great, if you asked John and Talia. The two couldn't be happier, waking up next to each other, going to sleep next to each other. The fact that Stiles and Derek were getting along so well was just the icing on the cake for them. 

Except the latest couldn’t be more wrong. 

Stiles and Derek couldn’t be more hostile towards each other. But boy, did they hide it well. The entire week was packed full of various remarks and threats, (just no erasers, surprisingly). They were almost constantly at each other’s throats. 

Like right now, for example. 

Derek had just finished tackling Stiles to the ground. 

It was Friday night and John and Talia were out for dinner, which led Stiles and Derek to fend for themselves. Stiles decided he was going to make macaroni and cheese, because the both of them were completely horrid cooks. Once it was done, Derek just refused to eat any of it and threw the plate full on the ground. Stiles called him an asshole and well, Derek chased him up the stairs. 

Once they got into Stiles' room, it didn't take long at all until Derek had tripped him and he fell to the floor, or well more like Derek's air mattress. 

That was where they were now, Stiles breathing heavily underneath Derek as he tried to catch his breath from the run. The only light in the room was coming from the small desk lamp that was on Stiles’ desk. Derek's eyes bore into Stiles’ and Stiles almost couldn't take it. 

Another thing that has changed throughout the week was Stiles’ complete and utter interest in Derek Hale. Stiles would do everything in his power to piss Derek off as much as he could, just so he could see Derek lose it. He loved seeing Derek ball his hands into fists and loved the way he looked at him, all smirk and almost sinister looking. When Derek would actually punch his arm (extremely lightly for what Derek was actually capable of, by the way) it made Stiles want him to take him right then. Stiles was having an issue, obviously. 

That issue only got bigger when Derek actually pressed his body against him. Stiles, breath now caught, could hardly breathe. His heart was hammering in his chest, eyes almost fluttering with the amount of want he had for the man above him right now. Derek, for some odd reason, didn't look too different than Stiles. 

Looking down at Stiles completely vulnerable form had left Derek almost hungry for the boy. The look of sheer anguish in the younger man’s eyes made Derek want to press himself into him. He could tell Stiles was fighting it too. 

Derek could pin Point the exact moment that he realized Stiles actually wanted him. It was that first night during that game of Charades where Stiles was practically drooling on the spot. At first Derek thought it would be fun to mess with Stiles about it. That was until he heard Stiles jerking off in the shower one night. 

All thoughts of messing with him in any other way but getting him off flew out the window. 

Derek really wanted to hear that now, the soft panting and quiet moans that came out of Stiles mouth. He wanted to push Stiles down into the mattress and see him bite his lip and arch his back in pleasure, wanted to feel his soft dick go hard in his hands. 

All of Derek's attention was averted when Stiles actually licked his lips. Derek's eyes slowly trailed down to Stiles lips, the wet and glistening sinful lips that he just wanted to ravish. He couldn't even begin to imagine that mouth on his cock. Derek almost groaned when he felt Stiles semi hard dick press up against his thigh. 

Stiles didn't know who started to lean in first. He wasn't entirely sure what was even going on until Derek's hot breath was on his lips, his eyes slowly drooping shut. Stiles breath caught in his throat for just a second before he followed suit and closed his eyes, waiting to feel Derek's sweet lips on his. 

A loud bang on the bedroom door brought Derek up to his feet. Or well, practically propelled Derek across the room. Not even five seconds later John walked in and turned the lights on. Stiles hurried to pull the blankets up to his chest, while Derek kind of just stood awkwardly and eye blown in the corner. 

The smile wiped clear off John’s face as he made eye contact with the two. His smile was now replaced with a confused frown. 

“What just happened?” John didn't even attempt to not sound like he was about to arrest both of them on the spot. Stiles froze. Derek started fidgeting with his pants, (which wasn't obvious at all, but John didn't seem to catch the motion). 

Stiles mind went completely blank. He looked over at Derek to see him now leaning up against the wall, a small smirk playing on his face as he watched Stiles fidget. 

"I'm waiting,” John said as he leaned against the door frame. Stiles swallowed hard. 

“We made mac and cheese.” 

Derek scoffed and John’s face twisted up in confusion. 

“I noticed that…” John trailed off. “There is an entire plate of it on the floor downstairs currently if you would like to pick that up.” 

Everyone was silent after that. John looked out of place and awkward, just like Stiles felt. It was not even another minute until Stiles’ dad left the room entirely, closing the door shut quickly behind him. 

The two boys stayed right where they were for the first few minutes. Stiles finally breathing properly again and his hard on completely gone. Derek on the other hand still looked completely amused, yet he stayed where he was backed up against the wall and away from Stiles. 

"So uh…” Stiles broke the silence, running his hands through his hair. Derek turned his attention back to Stiles. 

“Don't play games, Stiles.” Derek laughed. Stiles almost cringed at the way it sounded. 

Stiles stayed silent as Derek made his way closer to him. He didn't say a word when Derek knelt down on both knees as he slowly started to crawl closer to Stiles. When Derek was only a few mere inches away from Stiles’ face, Stiles didn't protest when he pushed him almost gently back down on the mattress, putting them right back in their previous position. 

"I know how much you want me," Derek pushed his thigh in between Stiles’ legs. “I know how much you like it when I yell at you,” Derek trailed a hand slowly up Stiles’ thigh. Derek heard it as Stiles’ breath hitched. “I know how much you like it,” Derek grabbed Stiles through his jeans suddenly, causing Stiles to gasp and push his hips forward. “I know how much you like it when I touch you like this.”

Stiles couldn't take it anymore. In one swift motion, Stiles gripped the back of Derek's head and pulled him in closer. Their lips only inches apart now. Stiles glanced down at Derek's waiting lips. 

“Show me you want this too.” 

That's all it took before Derek was kissing him. Stiles at first was a little slow and cautious, not really sure in what he was actually doing. Derek took control after that, grabbing Stiles’ face in his hands as he kissed him harder, patting his lips slightly so they could move them together. 

Stiles felt like he was on fire when Derek slowly traced his tongue across his bottom lip. He opened his mouth invitingly. As soon as their tongues met Stiles felt Derek shiver. Stiles moaned hotly into Derek's mouth at the contact. 

Stiles just only then realized that Derek's hand was still on his dick when Derek squeezed him through his jeans. The sound that came out of Stiles’ mouth was different than anything he had ever heard. Derek seemed to like it, for he pressed in closer, knocking his hips into Stiles thigh. 

The room felt like it was spinning, Derek felt hot all over with want. He wanted Stiles to touch him, wanted to touch Stiles. Derek didn't want anything more in his life in that moment than to just touch him. 

“Can I touch you?” Derek whispered almost hotly in his mouth. Stiles moaned in response. 

“Yes,” Stiles croaked out, his voice sounding foreign to his own ears. 

That was all Derek needed before he grabbed Stiles almost forcefully by the waist of his jeans, hauling him up and almost into His lap. Derek went straight for the zipper, his hands fumbling as he popped the button of Stiles’ jeans and zipped the zipper down all the way. He looked at Stiles then, who was breathing heavily, face red and lips swelled and wet, glistening in the low light of the room. Derek thought he looked like he fell from a porno. 

When Derek pulled down Stiles’ jeans, his boxers met half way. Stiles looked down and watched as Derek looked at his half exposed cock like he was hungry for it. Stiles’ dick strained against his boxers, half showing through the small opening. Derek looked up at Stiles through his eye lashes, his pupils blown and wrecked looking. Stiles couldn't believe this was happening.

When Stiles shut his eyes for just a split second, Derek decided it was time to swipe his tongue slowly against Stiles shaft. Stiles gasped in surprise as Derek pulled Stiles’ boxers all the way off, letting his hard and leaking cock slap up against his stomach. Derek made a low sound in his throat. 

“You make me so frustrated.” Derek practically growled. The sound went straight to Stiles’ cock. “I never knew the difference between me wanting to pound your face in and me wanting to pound you into the mattress.” Derek licked another strip from the base of his cock to the tip, where he slowly put it in his mouth. Stiles was straining against the sheets, gripping them tightly in his hands. 

When Derek put Stiles’ dick fully in his mouth, Stiles couldn't help but buck his hips up. Derek pulled off immediately. 

“Do that again and I'm going to have to punish you,” Stiles didn't have time to reply before Derek was sinking back down on his flushed cock. 

Stiles moaned as he felt the flat of Derek's tongue along his shaft, before he slowly pulled off to where only the tip was in his mouth. When he began to tongue at Stiles’ slit, Stiles bucked his hips again and burrowed his hands into Derek's hair to pull. Stiles cock inched closer to the back of Derek's throat with each small thrust of Stiles’ hips. 

Derek pulled off of Stiles’ dick at a particularly hard thrust. Derek gripped at Stiles’ ass and kneaded it in his hands. Stiles moaned at the contact. 

“I told you I was going to punish you,” Derek's voice sent shivers down Stiles, spine. 

When Derek smacked Stiles’ ass he almost couldn't contain the scream that tried to make its way out of his throat. Derek smirked at his reaction. 

“I knew you'd like that,” Derek smirked before smacking Stiles’ bare ass again. Stiles was biting his lip to the point it hurt, strangled noises escaping every few seconds as Derek's hand met his ass again. “I always knew you would love this, always knew that you would want me to go rough on you,” Stiles nodded at his words, vision almost blurring when he felt the hard smack on his ass once more. 

“I always knew I made you hard when I looked at you like that in school,” Derek gripped Stiles’ dick in his hand and tugged. Stiles groaned and hit his head back against the pillows. 

“You always turned me on, the way you just took it. I just didn't realize back then that this is how I wanted you,” Derek's pace picked up as he jacked Stiles off at a faster pace. He licked his lips as Stiles began to shudder beneath him. Derek couldn't help but rut up against Stiles’ thigh in response. 

Derek moved faster against Stiles’ thigh as Stiles’ dick began to leak pre cum. Stiles looked like a mess beneath him, gripping the sheets like his life depended on it. 

“Derek,” Stiles voice hitched as Derek wiped his thumb across the head. “Want to touch you,” Stiles made grabby hands for Derek's jeans where he tugged at the button. Derek let go of Stiles long enough to get his pants off in a swift motion. His shirt followed moments after. 

Derek no longer ducked down to get at Stiles shirt before he felt Stiles grab at his cock, hand already wet with the pre cum that was leaking out of Derek's hard cock. Stiles let out a small moan when he felt how heavy and hard Derek was. 

Derek moaned out loud and gripped Stiles’ shirt, pulling it up to his neck before dipping down and licking one of Stiles’ nipples in his mouth. Stiles hissed and bucked his hips at the contact, causing him to grip Derek’s cock harder in his hand. Derek bit down on one of Stiles’ nipples, earning another moan and a particularly sweet drag of his hand. Derek rolled Stiles’ nipple with his tongue as he gripped at Stiles cock again. 

“I'm so close,” Stiles almost cried, voice cracking as he jacked Derek off faster. Derek nodded his head in agreement. 

When Stiles started to pant harder, his chest falling up and down with every moan that escaped his mouth, Derek knew he was close. When Derek bit down particularly hard on Stiles’ nipple he arched up and came between them, coming hard on Derek's abs. Stiles moaned out loud as the aftershocks of his orgasm flooded through him, mouth hanging open as he was spent. 

Stiles hand stilled on Derek's cock only a minute as Stiles came down from his high. Derek removed his hand from Stiles’ softening dick and trailed it up his abs, getting his hand wet with Stiles’ cum before he sucked the digit into his mouth, Stiles watching him with hooded eyes as he did so. 

“You're so hot,” Stiles moaned. “Let me suck you off, I need it,” Derek didn't have time to answer, for Stiles was already pushing Derek off of him just enough so that he could get to his cock. 

When Stiles warm mouth came over his cock, it didn't take long. Stiles’ mouth so warm, wet and inviting as it formed around Derek's cock, Stiles bobbed his head and sucked, causing Derek to groan and throw his head back. It only took a few more drags of Stiles’ tongue before Derek was pulling at Stiles’ hair, signaling that he was going to cum. 

When Stiles didn't pull back, Derek let himself go, coming right down Stiles’ throat. Stiles swallowed around him, lapping at his cock as he spilled into his mouth. When Stiles pulled off of his spent cock, he looked up at Derek and innocently licked his lips, catching the last of Derek's cum with his tongue. 

Derek laid back at the same time Stiles did, both of their hands hitting the pillow at the same time. They only slightly glanced at each other, a small, dopey smile playing at both of their lips before Derek jumped up to go get a wet rag. 

They fell asleep pretty early that night. 

…

The next few weeks were something that Stiles never expected to happen. At school Stiles was no longer Derek's punching bag, but someone that Derek actually looked at like he was a human being. 

Derek changed almost one hundred percent. He would sometimes carry Stiles things to class (not even throwing them across the hall or anything,) and sometimes, just sometimes, he held his hand as they walked down the hallway. Derek was almost sweet, almost. He would whisper sweet nothings in his ear when they watched movies at the house, Stiles’ dad and Derek's mom only a couch away. He would call Stiles’ beautiful and kiss his freckles. He sometimes even apologized for how shitty he treated him, told him he didn't deserve to have someone like Stiles. It made Stiles heart warm. 

Stiles’ panic attacks almost completely vanished, his anxiety going down immensely now that Derek was the one helping him with his anxiety. Derek was the most supportive person in his life at that point, and one of the most important. 

Stiles never expected that to happen. Neither had Derek though. 

One thing Stiles did expect though was how rough Derek was in bed. He would grip Stiles’ hair, scratch down his back, bite him anywhere he could possibly reach and fuck him hard into the mattress until Stiles was screaming. (Obviously they made sure everyone was out of the house at that point). 

The two lay in bed, both panting hard and sweating, curled up on each other as they cuddled. Stiles traced Derek's and with his finger and Derek hummed contently, kissing Stiles on the top of his head. 

“I never expected this,” Stiles whispered into Derek's chest. He felt Derek's chest rise as he laughed. 

"I didn't either. I kind of thought I despised you.” Derek reached up to run his hand through Stiles’ hair. 

“That's news to me,” Stiles tapped his fingers on Derek's hip. “I couldn't tell that you didn't like me, not one bit.”

Derek slapped Stiles’ head playfully. 

"Stop being such a smart ass,” Derek growled playfully. “I told you it was only because I wanted to bone you and it pissed me off.”

Stiles gave him a weird look. 

“You just realized you wanted to fuck me like a month ago,” Derek silenced him with a quick kiss to the lips. 

“I know, I know, old Derek just didn't realize that yet.” Derek kissed him again. “Old Derek was missing out,” 

"Old Derek was an asshole,” Stiles giggled. “I like this Derek much better. This Derek gives me cuddles and slaps my ass,” as if on cue Derek's hand came down to slap Stiles’ ass playfully, causing him to erupt with laughter. 

“Our parents are just down stairs, don't even think about it,” Stiles kissed the smirk off of Derek's lips. 

They lay in content silence for a moment, the TV on from downstairs playing silently in the background. The quiet voices of John and Talia as they cooked together in the kitchen, laughing together. Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand in his and intertwined their fingers together. Stiles kissed Derek’s shoulder before settling in next to him on the bed. 

Stiles was happy. 

It only took years and years of pain and suffering, years of dealing with an asshole like Derek, years of dealing with anxiety and depression, years of dealing with being alone. But finally, finally, Stiles felt like he was at home. Stiles felt content. 

It only took years for Stiles to find someone who wasn't his dad to care about him. It only took years for Derek to turn into the most important person in his life. 

It only took years for Stiles to finally find a friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading! Feedback is appreciative


End file.
